"Can you cook, young woman?" said he.
"Of course, father," replied the perplexed maiden.
He laid aside his spoon and gave her his full attention.
"Can you cook potatoes?" said he. "Can you mash 'em, eh? Can you mash
'em? What! You can. They call them Murphies in this country, girl.
Can you mash Murphys, eh? I can. There's a Murphy I know, and,
although it's been mashed already, by the Lord Harry, I'll mash it
again. Did you ever know that potatoes had eyes, miss? Did you ever
notice it when you were cooking them? Did you ever look into the eyes
of a Murphy, eh? When you mashed it, what? Don't answer me, girl."
"I don't know what you are talking about, Pa," said the young lady.
"Don't you, now?" grinned the furious gentleman, and his bulging eyes
looked like little round balls of glass. "Who said you did, miss?
Gr-r-r-up," said he, and the poor girl jumped as though she had been
prodded with a pin.
Mr. Aloysius Murphy's activities began at ten o'clock in the morning by
opening the office letters with an ivory instrument and handing them to
his employer; then, as each letter was read, he entered its receipt and
date in a book kept for that purpose.
When Mr. MacMahon came in on the morning following the occurrences I
have detailed he neglected, for the first time in many years, to
respond to his clerk's respectfully-cordial salutation. To the
discreet "Good-morning, sir," he vouchsafed no reply. Mr. Murphy was a
trifle indignant and a good deal perturbed, for to an unquiet
conscience a word or the lack of it is a goad. Once or twice, looking
up from his book, he discovered his employer's hard eyes fixed upon him
with a regard too particular to be pleasant.
An employer seldom does more than glance at his clerk, just the
sideward glint of a look which remarks his presence without admitting
his necessity, and in return the clerk slants a hurried eye on his
employer, notes swiftly if his aspect be sulky or benign, and stays his
vision at that. But, now, Mr. Murphy, with sudden trepidation, with a
frightful sinking in the pit of his stomach, became aware that his
employer was looking at him stealthily; and, little by little, he took
to sneaking glances at his employer. After a few moments neither
seemed to be able to keep his eyes from straying--they created
opportunities in connection with the letters; the one looking intent,
wide-eyed, and with a cold, frigid, rigid, hard stare, and the other
scurrying and furtive, in-and-away, hit-and-miss-and-try-again, wink,
blink, and twitter.